"A mug of beer at Mike Anderson's"

When you get in an artistic funk, sometimes you just have to go with what inspires you the most. I’ve been saving this image for just such an occasion. The reflections of neon off this wonderful copper-topped bar at the now dark Mike Anderson’s was crazy good fun to paint. The mug of beer is a carnival of color. It's been said "a painting is never finished – only stopped"…I’ve stopped here. Knowing when to stop separates the good artist from the great. The lesson for the day - don’t pick. (I know tomorrow I’m going to pick at this painting anyway. I always do.)

"Cape May Salts"

At the risk is becoming known as "the guy who paints the oysters" - here is another oyster piece. I don't think I will ever tire of painting these creatures. They are as different as snowflakes and the variety of color and texture keeps drawing me back. Not to mention that I get to eat them when I'm done. Quite a bonus since they are delicious.

"Haut - Medoc 1997"

My first wine painting, "Cépage Laguiole Corkscrew" was a commission and thus not available to those who have expressed interest. I have played with those same elements in a more simplified, almost abstract composition. From across the studio it reads like the mark of Zorro! The aged cork against the white table cloth is quite trompe l'oeil.

"Compost bin"

They say “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” This painting is proof. The reflections of egg shells, coffee filters, rotting green tomatoes and onion skins off this battered compost bin caught my eye and appealed to my odd sensibilities. I always feel better returning a bit of organic matter back to mother earth. These lowly subjects now have served a greater purpose than mere food for worms.

"JJ"

Oil on panel 6" x 6"
This painting is the opposite of yesterday’s piece. Where fish are cold and slimy, cats are warm and fuzzy. This cat, JJ is particularly warm and fuzzy. He spends a lot of time on his back and if I didn’t know better would think he was half rabbit. He came into our lives about a year ago and is the perfect studio cat, a good mouser too. I suspect you will be seeing lots of him as he is a good model, spending much of his time sleeping in the studio.

"Redfish"

Oil on panel - 6" x 6"

I once reluctantly went ocean fishing with some friends while vacationing on the Outer Banks. We cast our nets upon the waters for hours but the bounty of the sea eluded us but for one poor red drum. He was unceremoniously thrown into a cooler full of ice on board to be filleted later. I would periodically open the lid and gaze at this poor creature. His eyes were larger than mine. He beckoned me to let him go. If it had been up to me I would have set him free but my crewmates would have keelhauled me on the spot. I have an aquarium in my studio so I have a soft spot for our finned friends. That said, he was delicious, so he did not die in vain. I was struck by the variety of colors on these 3 redfish. The cadmium red eyes of these little guys reminded me of that fateful day on “the minnow.”

"Pacific cod"

While plein air painting has much to recommend it, the practical aspects often get in the way. With this painting, I suppose I could have stood in front of the fish counter and dutifully captured every glistening scale on these beauties, but I doubt that the fish monger would have approved. Thank goodness we live in the age of digital image capture. A twin-aged blade to be sure - the ability to grab subjects and compositions on the fly is truly remarkable. I have had a darkroom since I was 14 and have only just “e-bayed” my enlarger this very year – sniff, sniff. The thought of me doing “wet” photography for reference would be akin to cranking up the old eight track player. I still carry a small sketch pad with me, more for taking notes, but my little Canon Elph does most of the heavy work. Is it possible to utilize modern technology without falling into the trap of having it do the all the work for you? As old school artists, we are keenly aware of those guys at the outdoor art faire who pass off their shrink wrapped computer manipulated photos as paintings. Are they “art”? If based on their own photography (which is an art-form) they are, but putting them through the “watercolor” filter in Adobe Photoshop and printing them out on cold-pressed watercolor paper is deception. The answer came to me as my eyesight started to go. I set up a laptop near my easel to close in on detail for a portrait I was working on – I’d grown tired of wearing the opti-viewer, a device like a jewelers loupe. Everything in my studio is on wheels, rather like being on the set of “Starlight Express.” I pushed the laptop away from me a bit and “voila” I had the feeling of painting from life. Yes, it is two dimensional, but isn’t that what we do when we close one eye to get a better feel while sketching in a painting anyway? I am only one week into this “daily painting” thing and I wanted more than the “daily pear” or the “daily apple.” Now the world is my oyster! Pun intended.

"Hon Bar oysters"

Is it possible for food, in this case, oysters, to be a vice? I started painting oysters last year quite by accident. Every Wednesday morning I join a group of retired art professors from a local college who meet over breakfast to brainstorm about their work and discuss the latest exhibitions. It’s our version of Picasso and his friends at Els Quatre Gats. Last year one of the guys arranged for us to have a group show—aptly called “The Breakfast Club”—at a gallery in Berkeley Springs, WV. There was just one caveat: no nudes. I was working primarily with the figure so this posed (no pun intended) a problem. As it turns out this restriction proved fortuitous and I rediscovered my long dormant love of the still life. Who knew? I produced a dozen lovely, tight paintings of that lowly bivalve…the oyster. It seemed only right. Oysters have been portrayed throughout art history and they have a soft, wet sensuality that I thought would be my little joke on the gallery. The daily paintings have made me realize that I am more Manet then DeHeem. Wielding a charged brush is more exciting to me than meticulously painting dew and bugs on a perfectly painted leaf. That genre has its place, but not in my studio. To make a long story short…oops, too late, I give you the “Hon Bar Oysters!”

Below is a painting from the "Breakfast Club" show:

"Oysters - Mike Anderson's, New Orleans" oil on canvas - 14" x 19"